


But You Love It

by miinyuu



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Confession, F/F, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 21:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12944055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/miinyuu/pseuds/miinyuu
Summary: Commission for my friend Kelly!!Sloane and Hurley, pre-thrall, with some mutual pining as they work on their wagons together.





	But You Love It

**Author's Note:**

> I take fanfiction commissions! For more info, visit: http://jinyoungiemp3.tumblr.com/post/168167849492

A small figure runs through the night, avoids the light of the street lamps as much as she can on her way through town. Soon enough she arrives at the back door of what appears to be an old, abandoned warehouse, worn down even from the outside. She knocks on the door in a practiced pattern—two knocks, then one, then three. Anxiety brews inside her as she waits outside, the possibility of being caught still very real. Her career as a police officer would be over if anyone found out she was here. Finally the door opens, light from inside pouring onto Hurley’s small figure before she dashes inside and closes the door behind her.

Her worries melt right away once she’s safely inside, and she greets Sloane with a teasing, “Heya _Raven._ ” The taller girl is already headed back toward her wagon to continue what she was working on, not wanting to lose her focus. 

“Hey there little Ram,” Sloane smiles back. Hurley crosses her arms and gives her a frown at the short joke, and she makes sure to hold it long enough so Sloane sees it when she turns around again. They both laugh. 

This is almost routine now, the two working on their wagons side by side. They shouldn’t even be together at all, but here they are, Sloane’s usual black clothing hiding all the grease from her recent work as they fix up their engines for the next race. Sometimes they work in silence, sometimes they’ll talk the night away. Nothing really dictates it and they never bother questioning it. 

Tonight the two are deeply focused on their work, the shop falling otherwise silent for a while before Sloane cuts through with, “Can you hand me that wrench when you’re done with it?” 

“Sure thing,” Hurley says, taking just a second to finish tightening this one last bolt. She meets Sloane halfway between their wagons, holding the wrench out for her. When Sloane goes to grab the tool, however, Hurley pulls her hand away and smirks. “Should I really be helping the competition, though?” she asks in a playful, thoughtful singsong. 

“Come _on_ ,” Sloane whines. “Don’t you love me?” She knows how to tease Hurley right back, her voice just as playful now as the halfling’s. 

Hurley knows, she _knows_ in her head that Sloane is playing around, but the words almost catch her off-guard, platonic or not. She has all she can do to hand Sloane the wrench and turn back around to face away from her before she starts blushing. 

A few nights later they’re a bit more chatty as they work, talking about Hurley’s job or about their next race, whatever’s on their minds, when Sloane makes her way over to take a proper glance at Hurley’s wagon. Hurley almost feels defensive about it, trying to keep the details of her work secret from the competition, but she doesn’t say anything. 

“You know,” Sloane says, leaning over to look under the hood, “if you connect this over here,” she gestures across some connectors, “it’ll be less likely to break when you take a sharp turn. Might wanna watch out for that.” Sloane looks to Hurley to see what she thinks of the advice. 

Hurley first narrows her eyes, looking up at Sloane with suspicion that’s at least half teasing. “How do I know I can trust ‘advice’ from my number one competitor in this race?” 

“What, you don’t trust me? A serial thief and outlaw?” The half-elf is already heading back to her own wagon now, not looking at Hurley as she speaks. “As you said, I’m your number one competitor. Meaning I’m the best—so it’d be no fun if you weren’t at least a challenge for me.” She turns back again just so Hurley can see the smirk on her face when she laughs, Hurley giving an unamused expression in return. 

“Alright, alright, but if this ends up screwing me in the next race, your ass is grass. Don’t forget I’m a cop, now.” Her hands are on her hips, and the fact that she’s on the police force balances with her tiny stature to make this gesture end up not very intimidating at all. 

“Yes, a cop who’s been fraternizing with Goldcliff’s Most Wanted for weeks now. I’m sure that’ll go over well with the captain.” 

“You’re horrible.”

“But you love it.” 

 

It’s two days before their next race, one of the biggest of the year, when someone comes in to see Hurley at work. A local store owner, a dwarven man, there to report a theft. 

“An’ I think that one there, ‘The Raven’? I think she done did it,” he explains. “Could hardly get a glimpse of the thief in the dark an’ all, but I think it was her. Y’all gotta find some way to get her, she’s a damn nuisance to the whole town!” 

Hurley jots down the details he gives of what happened, and once he leaves, she rereads it all again, rubbing her temples. There’s no way it wasn’t her. The thief even stole a wagon part, of all things. 

_God damn it_. 

She figures she’ll have to talk to Sloane tomorrow. She doesn’t have it in her to arrest her still, she just can’t bring herself to do it for something as small as petty theft. Not even when she keeps on doing it, time and time again. What kind of police officer that makes her, she doesn’t care—but she’ll still have to give her a good talking to. 

 

The next night when she plans to talk to her, however, is the night before the big race they’ve been working so hard for. Hurley knocks on the door in their special code and Sloane lets her in, as usual, but by the time the door clicks closed Hurley is already pointing a stern finger up at Sloane. 

“You almost got caught,” she says. “I would have had to lock you in jail and there would have been no way around it. You know that?” 

“But I still got away,” Sloane says nonchalantly. It only infuriates Hurley more to see how Sloane seems to just brush this all off. “I never get caught. That’s my thing.” She shrugs. 

“But you do! I know it’s you! I could take you in at any time!” 

Sloane crouches down, makes herself just about eye-level with the little halfling. “Then why don’t you?” She smirks, and Hurley hates it. 

The question itself is only a small part of why Hurley gets flustered then, the majority of the reason being just how close their faces are right now. It’s a bit intense, and Hurley gets the feeling Sloane knows exactly what she’s doing. But the question is, what kind of game is she playing exactly? What if Sloane is just using her so she can get away with her crimes without repercussions? What if this is all one big ruse and Hurley is just a fool for falling for her in the first place? 

So Hurley pauses in this moment, her thoughts racing to come up with a proper answer to the question. But before she can, Sloane stands back up, laughing at her. Hurley laughs as well, but it’s a second or two delayed, and far more forced, awkward, and a touch nervous. 

They’re quieter after this, the two working more or less in total silence, though Hurley’s thoughts are anything but still. She knows full well why she doesn’t ever arrest Sloane, she knows how she feels and she’s come to terms with it by now. Sloane herself even seems to feel the same— _seems_ , she notes—how horribly awkward would it be if she were to go through with a confession, cop to criminal, and it wasn’t even reciprocated? But that wasn’t the biggest issue here. 

Even if Hurley said something, even if she kissed Sloane full on the mouth right now, it would all be so _wrong_. They could never be together in public, and she’d be betraying herself and her job, betraying most of her own identity, really. 

But didn’t she already do that? 

Racing in illegal street races, even just befriending a well-known criminal—would it really be any worse to just go through with it, take it all the way? 

Her thought process just keeps running from one thing to another, making it hard to focus on these finishing touches on her wagon, and she totally misses what Sloane says when she finally speaks up. 

“What?” Hurley asks, expression like she was just woken from a trance. 

Sloane is looking over the top of her wagon from the other side, a hand resting on the hood when she repeats, “I _said,_ ‘where should we go for our date when I win that cash prize tomorrow?’” 

Hurley takes another second or two to process Sloane’s words, even on the second try. 

“…‘date’?” 

“Yeah,” Sloane says, as if it’s something they’ve already discussed a million times. “We still haven’t been on a real one yet and it’s getting ridiculous. I know we can’t exactly be seen together in public, not in Goldcliff at least, but—” 

“Wha— are you serious?” Hurley interrupts her and steps away from her wagon, meets Sloane as the half-elf wraps around the front of her own, then facing each other between both wagons. 

“Uh, yeah?” Sloane says, laughter sitting on the tip of her tongue. “Do you… not want to? I mean, wasn’t that… the whole thing? What we’ve been doing here?” 

Hurley presses her lips together, furrows her brow, then reaches out and slaps Sloane’s one hand in a half-teasing, half-reprimanding way. “Sloane! I’ve been _so_ anxious about this for _weeks!_ Not knowing what we were doing exactly or if I should act on it or if I was just making stuff up or—”

“Wait, really?” Sloane interrupts her just how Hurley had a moment ago. “I was— I thought you knew! I thought that was our whole game, y’know, like, we play flirt and tease each other— the whole ‘why don’t you arrest me’ bit?” 

“I thought you were serious!” 

“Hurley, oh my god,” Sloane says, laughing as she crouches down to meet the halfling better. She’s still grinning ear to ear when she places a hand on Hurley’s cheek, leans her face in closer to hers. She whispers softly, “Can I…?” The fact that Sloane, known outlaw and resident ‘bad girl,’ is still sweet enough to _ask_ to kiss her, even after Hurley’s feelings have already been made very clear, makes the halfling’s heart beat even faster. 

So Hurley answers not with a word but by leaning in, pressing her lips gently to Sloane’s. One kiss turns into two, three, Hurley’s hands settling on either side of Sloane’s neck. When they part the two meet eyes for hardly a full second before they both burst out laughing. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Sloane says, voice still coated with laughter. 

“ _I’m—_ _you’re_ the ridiculous one!” Hurley lets go of Sloane’s neck just to playfully give her a push to one shoulder instead. Sloane loses her balance, crouched down as she is, and her hands instinctively reach for Hurley to steady herself—ending up taking her down with her in the process. 

Hurley falls right onto Sloane, head falling into the crook of her neck, and the two remain there for longer than intended, laughing and holding each other. When Hurley finally lifts her head, looks at Sloane for a second, she then leans in to give her a kiss on the cheek before standing up. By the time she’s back on her feet, Sloane is still lying on the ground and showing no signs of getting up anytime soon.

“Need some help there, Raven?” 

“You think you can lift me?” Sloane gives Hurley an incredulous look before taking the halfling’s outstretched hand. 

Hurley pulls her back up to her feet with ease, and Sloane is in awe. 

“Don’t underestimate monks!” Hurley grins. “I’m a lot stronger than you think.” 

“That’s hot.” Sloane says this with a smirk, knowing full well Hurley’s going to blush at the comment, as planned. And when she does, Sloane is ready to lean down and kiss her again. 

“Alright, alright, get back to your work,” Hurley says dismissively, though she’s laughing, trying to hide her embarrassment. 

“As you say, officer. But don’t forget to think on that date thing.” 

“You mean for when _I_ win the big cash prize?” 

“Oh, we’ll see about that.” 


End file.
